Note: This is it, THE END. Yeah, took me a while to update… holidays are busy! Anywho, thanks to all that have taken the time to read this and review! Feel free to check out my other works! This last post will be a bit different… It's one story, just cuz…

Dis: I don't own TMNT

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Title: Watching Over You
Summary: Someone stands vigil over a fallen hero…
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rated: PG-13

Pairing: Donnie/OFC

December 24th & 25th: Rest & Love

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A prone figure lay on a rickety cot, sweat collecting on his furrowed brow. Rapid movements behind closed, green eyelids let the other in the room know that the patient was having haunted dreams. A soft whimper had the human girl running tender fingertips over the fallen hero's cheek: calming him enough so that she could reach into a bowl of cool water and wring out a snow white towel before compressing the cool relief to a fevered brow. She tucked the blanket up higher with her free hand, just beneath his chin before removing the cold compress. He'd been out for two days already, and was showing no signs to waking anytime soon other than the distressed sounds he made while dreaming.

Sighing she put the cloth back into the water before rubbing her tired eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she slept. Whenever her best friend and his brothers went out on these dangerous missions, sleep always eluded her until he messaged her that he was ok. When she hadn't gotten the message she had come down to the lair to find the turtle of the group that usually played the role of medic barely conscious on this very cot: the other three unsure of what to do.

He'd been shot, and had been in shock. Upon seeing her he'd gotten restless, urgent to sit up and get to her and she had hurriedly gotten to his side. Despite the wound in his shoulder his arms banded around her and his face had pressed against her neck. He shuddered once, twice, and then had fallen limp against her. She had taken control then, ordering the others around. The bullet had gone through but he had lost a lot of blood, his normally dark olive skin a lighter shade of green. She stitched him up the best she could and wrapped his whole arm and shoulder before hooking him up to an IV and covering him up.

He was now fighting an infection and she frowned while pressing the back of her hand to his fevered cheek. She started him on some antibiotics when the fever first started but it wasn't breaking like she wanted it to. Kneeling down to have better access to him she once again applied the compress, her free hand sneaking under the blanket, her smooth palm sliding over his calloused before entwining her fingers with his. He looked so vulnerable without all his padding and his mask, and truly she'd never seen him without one or the other.

"I get it, Donnie," she said in a soft whisper, blue eyes watering. "You need to rest, but please, wake up… Just for a while so I know you'll be ok." Leaning down she pressed her cheek against his good shoulder, brown hair falling over her eyes before she closed them. "Please wake up…I… I love you. I know, crazy huh? How did we get here? I mean, I think I've always had feelings for you but… Please wake up so I can talk to you about this… I mean it… I love you…"

"Mmph… 'ly… M'ly…" he murmured, making her start and sit up straight. His eyes were still closed, but she felt his hand clasp hers lightly before falling limp once more.

"Donnie?" She smiled before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You're going to be ok, you know that?"

His only answer was the gentle rise and fall of his chest, but somehow she knew that he heard her.

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When he opened his eyes, Donatello felt, well, well rested. Being the logical one he didn't let panic grip him when he found he couldn't move right away. Images washed over him and he remembered being shot, Raphael carrying him back to the lair, and the panicked expressions on his brother's faces when they realized he was hurt a lot worse than they initially thought. He had wanted to tell them that he would be ok, but his mind had started to fog. Apparently, the shock had been wearing off at the time. Right when he was about to go under he remembered Emily standing there and it was like adrenaline had been suddenly injected into his heart because he'd been able to sit up and embrace her. Something within him had just needed to make sure she was ok and when he'd gotten the answer that she was: he let the darkness take him.

Wincing he lifted up his good arm and braced it against the cot before sitting up. Dizziness had been expected and he closed his eyes and centered himself for a moment before traveling the rest of the way up. The warm blanket fell from his shoulders and he looked down to see the wrapping that went around his shoulder, shell, and arm. Emily must've cleaned him up, it was too precise and clean to be Mikey and Raph and Leo's wraps were always too tight. Raising his good arm he rubbed the crud out of his eyes just as a whisper of a sound came from the doorway. Looking up he saw Emily and a stab of guilt traveled right through him.

She looked like hell. Her normally bright and happy face was pale and dark circles that matched the black t-shirt she wore were beneath her eyes. Her usually vibrant, brunette hair was frizzy and up in a messier bun than usual. However, her expression seemed to brighten immediately when seeing him awake.

"Donnie!"

"Hey, Em," he said, mustering a smile even though he was now starting to feel the fiery pain in his shoulder. "How long was I out?"

"Four days," she said, blowing a strand of brown hair out of her eyes. "You had a high fever; your wound had gotten infected before I treated it."

"Ah…" He slowly twisted around and she rushed to his side, hands going to his good arm and curling around his bicep to help him stand. He felt shaky but also hungry, thirsty: and he really needed to pee. "I need-"

"Don!" came a chorus of shouts and suddenly he was passed from one brother to the other and finally Splinter who stated he felt blessed now that he was awake. Donatello enlisted the help of Leo to get him to the bathroom while Mikey insisted he was going to make a feast to celebrate his return to the land of the living: which had earned a smack from Raphael.

"He wasn't dead you moron," growled Raphael and Don could catch the slight twinge of fear in his voice. Raph had been worried.

"You know what I meant," said Mikey with an eye roll, deflecting his feelings with jokes as always.

"Guys," said Donatello softly. "I'm fine."

"Well good, now Emily can actually get a good night's sleep," said Mikey, walking out of the recovery room (aka the back corner of his lab).

Donatello looked over his good shoulder at Emily, ignoring the slight pain from the motion, and saw her looking down at her hands, wringing them. She was nervous: why? His bladder decided that he'd have to ask that question later…

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"Hey."

Emily started, twisting around on the couch to see Donatello standing behind her. She turned off the television and smiled as he came around the couch to settle beside her. "Hi."

"You sleep yet?"

"No." She shrugged, looking down at her hands. She had showered, eaten, and even changed her clothes but had been unable to sleep as of yet. "Not tired."

"Yeah, I get that. The times I've had to keep vigil over my brothers, usually Raph, after one of them got hurt…" His good hand moved to cover both of hers and she looked up at him, her blue eyes connecting with his warmer brown. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She bit her lower lip, blue eyes adverting to his wrapped shoulder: head tilting so that her longer bangs shadowed her eyes and she jumped as a green digit swept them back into place and she blinked up at him, freckled nose scrunching in confusion. "Don?"

"I remember bits and pieces… A lot of it is coming back to me. I remember, at least I think I do…" It was his turn to be uncomfortable. She noticed him shift, then wince as he pulled on his shoulder. She turned one of her hands upward so that her fingers could entwine with his. "Did you mean it?"

Confusion first, then understanding had her tensing as vulnerable eyes slowly met his gaze. "I…"

"I understand if you didn't," he said, sighing. "Things are said that are later regretted. Heat of the moment but… If you meant it then…" His gaze darkened and it was almost like she was staring into two pieces of coal instead of his eyes. "Then… Me too."

Emily smiled before leaning down, resting her head against his good shoulder while keeping a firm grip on his hand. She felt his breath as he nuzzled the top of her head and slowly her eyes started to droop. Moments later she's aware of being carried and her concern lets her rise out of the fuzziness.

"Yer shoulder…"

"Is fine," he insisted even though she heard the strain in his voice. "The couch is awful; I can't have my caretaker subjected to torture after all she's done for me."

"Don…" Emily smiled before bringing her hand up to his cheek. He started at the contact before nuzzling her palm. "You've been shot. You should have your bed."

"Can… Can we just lay together?" he asked and suddenly it's like he's that insecure teenager all over again, fawning over a girl: except this time the girl actually returned his feelings.

"I'd like that," said Emily with a smile and soon they are under the covers, Emily fully clothed and yet comfortable with a fully naked Donatello since his padding and mask were still M.I.A. She let him get comfortable first before settling in beside him. She gave a surprised squeak as his good arm pulled her in tightly against his side and she gave a rare giggle before settling in against him.

"Em?"

"Hm?"

"I love you," he said seriously. "Since the day I met you."

"Love you too," she said softly, the promise of sleep already pulling her under. "Donnie?"

"Hm?" he asked, so comfortable and content that even HE was falling asleep.

"Don't ever… Scare me… Like that again," she said between yawns, earning a chuckle from the genius turtle.

"I'll try not to."

END